


Running (For The Altar)

by infectedscrew



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Fake Marriage, Implied Sexual Trafficking, M/M, Undercover Work, past drug use mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 21:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6769939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infectedscrew/pseuds/infectedscrew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason’s marriage to Roy lasted less than 24 hours but managed to shattered a window and a criminal lord's empire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running (For The Altar)

**Author's Note:**

> A commission for @akumastrife on Tumblr who wanted the age-old trope of Fake Marriage.

Jason didn’t think someone could look so pathetic than if they placed a soaking wet kitten with a tiny sneeze in front of him. The man in front of him was no kitten but he was certainly pretty pathetic but it was do nothing to stir his heart strings. Unless the gripping anger bubbling behind his sternum could be considered ‘stirring’.

“You did what?” He asked around the mouthful of food he’d been trying to enjoy.

Across the table from him, Roy had his head bowed and his hands clasped above his head as if he was praying to the Heavens above. Considering the blowout that was sure to be coming, he probably was.

“I may have–”

“I fucking heard you,” Jason snapped after swallowing heavily. He grabbed his beer and took a quick swig to make sure he didn’t start coughing. The bottle slammed back to the table’s surface hard enough to slosh some over the bottle’s mouth.

Roy peeked up at him and silently wished that he hadn’t. The glare that he was getting was enough to melt steel beams. Honestly, Superman could learn a thing or two from it.

Slowly, carefully, Jason set his burger down and whipped his hands. Dropping the napkin on the plate, he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked down at Roy. It was right about that moment that Roy fully understood how Jason had been able to control the Gotham gangs for as long as he had. Jason could be intimidating without opening his mouth.

“Let me get this straight…” Jason started slowly.

But then again, that mouth could rip a man apart with a few well placed words. Roy was just such a man and he prayed once more that he made it to tomorrow. He had plans, after all.

“You told the leader of Los Diablos that you were married to the heir to the Falcone underworld,” Jason continued. He paused, eyebrow arching to a point that could kill.

Roy opened his mouth, thought better of it and closed it again. He nodded.

“Then you went on to tell him that your spouse was me and was even stupid enough to show him a picture.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a hard statement of fact.

“I had to make it convincing,” Roy whined, dropping his head against the table again.

“Had to make it–? What on Earth possessed you?” Jason asked, voice raising an octave.

Roy winced. “Look, he’s been wanting an in to the Falcone family–”

“Which we don’t actually have.”

“Which he thinks we have. You’re from Gotham. You’ve had more than your fair share of run ins with the Falcone’s. You could probably make up a bunch of stuff to sound convincing,” Roy offered, turning his head onto his cheek and looking up at Jason with pleading eyes.

Jason snorted and shook his head. “You mean like you did.”

Roy lifted a hand and pointed at Jason. When he couldn’t think of a come back, he lowered it back down to his lap.

“Uh huh,” Jason sighed.

Silence dropped over the pair. Both were doing some impressive work with their eyes but while Jason was attempting to murder Roy with his, Roy was trying to convince Jason that all was right with the world and the mission would go perfectly, all without blinking. Neither were very successful but both could hope.

The tension was only broken when Kori floated into the room, stretching her arms over her head. She yawned widely and relaxed. A smile blossomed over her face as she saw Jason’s plate of food. Gently knocking away the napkin, she snagged a french fry. She was entirely heedless of the violent air as she nibbled happily.

Only once she’d snagged her third fry did she look at the two men. Her eyebrows rose.

“You are very tense,” she pointed out. “Why?”

“We’re married now,” Roy groaned without actually explaining anything.

Kori blinked, uncomprehending for a second. Then she smiled again and cheered. She dropped her fry and looped an arm around both of their necks, yanking them close.

“Oh, finally! All your dancing and hidden emotions were so annoying!” She said, easily talking over their confused sputtering. “You have done the deed and are together now. That is very exciting! I am congratulating you!”

Kori released them and clapped her hands. “I must tell Dick,” she declared.

“No–!” Jason started.

“Wait–!” Roy attempted.

Ignoring them completely, Kori sped the from the room. All the way out she sang her praises for them and then said something in her bizarre language that sounded oddly like a blessing but could have been a threat.

Jason scrubbed his hands over his face. He wanted to hit something–specifically a redhead that was giving him that simpering look again.

“I guess we’ll have to go get some fucking rings,” he grumbled.

—

The metal felt heavy against Jason’s finger, a brand that he’d suffer through the rest of his life. He was being dragged to hell by a cheap ass piece of jewelry but what was worse that he had to smile all the way down.

The only consolation was the knowledge that Los Diablo was going to be paying out the fucking ass. If he wasn’t already married he’d swear that they were trying to court him. From the very nice cigars, plush leather seats, constantly flowing, delicious tequila, Jason was very content with his slow descent into criminal courtship–especially if they kept those tapas coming.

Although, he had to admit, in a weird way they kind of were trying for courtship. They needed to make very nice with the supposed heir to the Falcone family if they wanted to move their shit operation over the border and into Gotham’s underground. Nothing makes a criminal fold faster than a taste of the extra-good life. Nothing like thinly veiled threats passed between smooth drinks.

The head of Los Diablo, Ricardo “Jackal” Jimenez was a sharp fellow with hard eyes and a twisted grin. Just from looking at him Jason could tell that Ricardo thought he had seen and done everything, therefore the rules of man didn’t apply to him and they all owed him something. Ricardo fell directly into the group that Jason hated dealing with the most. They tended to be the most dangerous and the hardest to get rid of.

“And your father approved of this?” Ricardo asked, gesturing between him and Roy, firmly reminding Jason exactly how messed up the mission was going. “Senior Falcone has always struck me as very… traditional.”

Jason shrugged casually, his full glass dangling from the hand that rested easily on the armrest. He crossed his legs at the knee, practically looking down his nose at Ricardo.

“Times changes. Everyone has to be adaptable,” he answered, lifting his other hand to take a deep drag from his cigar.

Beside him Roy looked like he was fully prepared to jump out of a window at any given moment. Just point him toward one and he would be off like a shot, no questions asked. It wasn’t really helping the whole image of the happy, married, comfortable mob couple that Jason was trying to exude.

“Tell me again how you came into this world, Roy,” Ricardo requested, switching his gaze over to the redhead.

The question game had been going on for a little over three hours. Ricardo was feeling them out, testing to see if they were legit–if they really could get him into Gotham. There hadn’t been any slips up yet but the questions had remained largely business until very recently. Suddenly every other question was about what it was like growing up in Gotham and how the marriage was lasting. The answer to both was shit but it wasn’t the answer Jason could realistically give.

“Fell into it, actually,” Roy said, laughing slightly. His hand was resting on Jason’s forearm and while it looked casual it was about three seconds away from gripping hard enough to break bone. “Literally. I thought it’d be cool to steal but… Turns out I stole from the very wrong guy.”

“And then he stole your heart or something like that?” Ricardo joked, one of his cronies giving a sluggish laugh.

“Sure, right after I broke his nose,” Jason added.

The entire last night had been spent working out their story and making sure that it was bullet-proof. It was much harder than Jason thought it would be. He had only ever done solo-undercover missions. Even back when he was Robin, forced into whatever ridiculous scenario Bruce thought up, he went most of them alone. Never once was he roped into a case with the God-awful Matches Malone, although he’d heard the some of the later Robins hadn’t been so lucky.

The hardest part was just getting Roy to stay on topic. Every time they settled on a point, he would run off with a completely different one. It was maddening and showing Jason exactly why Roy never ever did undercover work. In the end they hashed out the basics because if Jason had to answer one more goddamn question about how romantic their first fuck was he was going to be a widower pretty damn quick.

“I can say you look very good together,” Ricardo commented, gesturing for one of

his servant girls to bring him a drink. 

Jason had been frowning at the girls for most of the day. He had the feeling none of them were there willingly and not one of them were older than sixteen. It made his skin crawl. Traffickers were the literal worst.

“Thanks,” Roy said cheerfully. He leaned slightly toward Jason, making very good on the whole ‘newlywed and deeply in love’ image. In fact, he’d been largely plastered to Jason’s side for most of the visit and Jason hadn’t been entirely opposed to keeping a hand on Roy’s body somewhere–it was grounding in a way he didn’t realize it could be.

“Can’t say I’m the best looking he’s ever had,” Roy added.

Jason clicked his tongue, refocusing on Roy. It was better than looking at the nervous girl pouring Ricardo’s beer. “Don’t say that, babe.”

Ricardo shifted, getting up off of his chair. The leather didn’t even creak when he moved. Well oiled and taken care of and expensive, he didn’t spare a single peso on even the smallest piece of furniture.

“We have chatted enough,” he announced his voice taking a hard edge that Jason didn’t totally appreciate it. “How can I have the son of Falcone in my house for this long and not once show him how much I can offer?”

Jason threw back the last of his drink, letting the burn of alcohol fire up his nerves. He was going to need it. With a quick glance to Roy, he pushed out of his seat and stood. He straightened his grey suit jacket, it had been Kori’s choice and she wouldn’t let him leave until she’d gotten it on him.

Roy got to his feet, plucking at his tight button up. The shirt hadn’t been his first choice. He had wanted a suit to go with Jason’s but both Kori and Jason decided it didn’t look right on him. Too stuffy, they had agreed and put him something more casual. It turned him into the trophy, out-of-the-loop husband–which worked perfectly well for Jason.

“You’ve already shown me a lot,” Jason said, gesturing with his, now free, hand to the luxurious room around them. “If this is how you treat potential friends, I can’t imagine what business partners get.”

That made Ricardo’s eyes flash. Even the tiny idea that he might team up with Gotham’s underground was enough to send his excitement flaring. Jason could practically hear his heartbeat speed up from where he was standing.

“For the Falcone family?” Ricardo lifted his hand to guide them out of the room. “I will show you what I wouldn’t even show my own brother.”

The hallways Ricardo led them to were an impossibly different air than the sun room they’d been it. The back sections of the house were practically militant, lined with cameras, guards and supported by thick concrete. It would take an all out invasion before the building would crumble. Whatever it protected was going to be worth a hefty sum.

As they walked, Ricardo filled them in on all of his earnings. It was an impressive amount, ranking in the billions and it was all an annoying show. Ricardo just wanted to prove how big of an asset he could be, how much money he could bring to the family if he was allowed to join.

Jason was very sure that Ricardo would willingly kill Roy and become the new Mrs. Falcone-Son-In-Law if he was confident that it would keep him locked in partnership. It was with that troubling thought that he kept Roy close, one arm around his waist.

“Shit,” Roy breathed when Ricardo led them to the second largest room and it was a sentiment Jason could get behind.

The room was methodically packed and stacked with weapons that Jason could only dream about. Not even Black Mask’s storeroom went so deep. There were some guns he was very sure had only just hit the market. How Ricardo had managed to get his claws into them was beyond Jason’s understanding.

“Is that…” He started, pointing to a wicked looking gun.

“Wayne Tech,” Ricardo offered. “I thought you might recognize your little piece of home.”

A snap of his fingers and a guard stepped away from the wall to lift the gun from it’s casing. He carried it, almost reverently, to Ricardo and handed it over. Jason didn’t think he’d seen a group of people so loyal outside of the League of Assassins. Ra’s would just piss himself to see how tight Ricardo’s enterprise was.

Ricardo handed the gun over, forcing Jason to release Roy and take it.

Despite the gun’s size, it was shockingly lightly. Cigar tucked between two fingers, Jason ran his hand over it, eyes wide. It was damn impressive and made him salivate. The sheer amount of destruction just the one weapon could accomplish was mind-boggling.

“Fox and Drake design, I am told,” Ricardo explained, one hand in his pocket. He sipped his beer before continuing. “It was made as a weather modification device, meant to reverse drought in affected areas.”

Jason nodded. He’d heard of the work Tim had been doing on the device but when trials proved unsuccessful, it had been benched. Clearly, someone else had taken up the specs.

“Now, it is a concussive weapon with enough power to knock the entire first floor out of a building.” The purr in Ricardo’s voice was thick and ran over Jason’s nerves in all the wrong ways. “Used on a person, well… Have you ever wondered what your enemy might look like if they were turned inside out?”

Roy shuddered, finally taking his gaze off the weapon.

Reluctantly, Jason handed it back. “It’s very impressive. I hesitate to even ask how you got it.”

Ricardo had it sent back to it’s shelf. “If we partner, I won’t keep any secrets from you. My lines will be yours. All of my products will be yours.”

The way the words came out it was like Ricardo was offering his body and everyone on his payroll. It made Jason want to step on his face until he could feel his teeth crack but he managed to hide the feeling. Roy, on the other hand…

“Not a fan of guns, darling?” Ricardo asked, eyebrow arched.

Roy shook his head. “I prefer the… softer things.”

That made all three of them pause. Whatever Ricardo had been expecting, it wasn’t whatever Roy’s words implied. Jason was very sure he knew exactly how Ricardo was translating it and Roy was staring just above Ricardo’s head, eyes narrowed and lips slightly pursed as he reevaluated exactly what had come out of his mouth.

“Then… I have much more to show you. If your husband does not object,” Ricardo said, glancing at Jason.

Jason’s jaw was tight enough to hurt. “Nope,” he said, the ‘p’ popping a little harder than he expected it to. “I’d give him all the best.”

“Which is what I’d give you,” Ricardo hummed, tone slick and oily. He turned out of the room and headed to the door at the end of the hall. He switched into rapid Spanish, sending orders to his servants and guards, who rushed ahead to complete them.

Jason grabbed Roy’s arm, fully intent on leaving a bruise. “What the fuck is wrong with

you?” He hissed, keeping an eye on Ricardo’s back.

Roy winced, not even trying to break the hold. “What?” He whined quietly. “That’s a messed up weapon.”

“Where we are going it isn’t going to get any better,” Jason snapped. “Do you have any idea what you just implied?”

Roy was grimacing heavily but Jason couldn’t be sure if it was because of the threat of his elbow breaking. When the apology shifted into his expression he was assured that it was because Roy had very belatedly figured out what his words sounded like.

“I didn’t mean to,” he offered. “I was hoping, maybe, drugs or something?”

Jason was reconsidering his policy to not hit Roy for the duration of the facade. “Roy, you did drugs, in what fucking universe are drugs considered the ‘softer’ option.”

“Well, I mean…”

Whatever excuse Roy might have come up with was utterly destroyed when they finally reached the last room. Thankfully Ricardo hadn’t heard their bickering but that was most likely because he had been intent on giving them both his very best impression of the biggest room of the house.

“My prizes,” Ricardo announced, throwing the heavy double doors open.

It was a scene out of the most fucked up harem fantasy Jason had ever seen. The sterile concrete room was somehow transformed into a plush, silk and pillow covered domain that was scented with vanilla and lavender. All the details were gold and shining. But the main occupants were what really pulled his attention. There were soft-skinned, slender bodies of nearly every age and race lounging in half-drug induced laziness.

“Prizes?” Jason repeated, the bridge of his nose wrinkling in disgust.

Roy yanked on his arm, forcing him to remember his alias. The Falcone’s didn’t dip too heavily into body trade but it wasn’t a secret that a large number of the family members at least partook in the spoils. The son of the family was certainly going to be one of those numbers.

“Of course,” Ricardo agreed, either not seeing or totally ignoring the brief hatred that had hit Jason’s features. He beckoned one of the young men over to them. “Only the best for myself and my partners.”

The young man was thin but moved like he knew exactly how to turn every movement into something sensual. He had been there for a while and was clearly one of the more favored ones, if the amount of jewelry sitting on his skin was anything to go by. The gold and silver glittered on his dark skin and he didn’t take his heavy, gaze from Jason’s face.

“Jerome,” Ricardo introduced simply, his hand sliding over the youth’s shoulder and up his neck. “He has been with me for some time. He is one of my best.”

Roy shifted closer to Jason, practically sealed to his side. He licked his lips–Jason knew it meant he was nervous but, judging from Ricardo’s expression he was reading it as delight.

“He’s… beautiful,” Roy croaked.

“He can be yours,” Ricardo offered, pushing Jerome forward with no gentleness to his touch.

“Oh,” Roy said intelligently. It could have been a sound of consent but Roy’s hand was digging into Jason’s bicep and Jason could see the twitch in his jawline. “Could you imagine.”

Ricardo’s smile widened to something particularly sinister. “I don’t have to. I can tell you all about it back upstairs.”

Jason angrily shoved his cigar into his mouth, refusing to look directly at any of the glittering bodies around him. He nodded once, sharply.

Roy seemed to be having trouble doing anything but staring. Although he was forced to look away when Ricardo waved them back out, closing the door on Jerome and the literal child slaves.

Back upstairs, Jason anger had quickly consumed him. Weapons and drugs he could handle, those were easy and could be moved without consequence but children were an entirely different story. That left scars and pain and way more than Jason was willing to deal with. A child in his world made him want to find the adult responsible and tear them apart ligament by ligament. If he didn’t have an image to upkeep, he would have already taken Ricardo to the fucking dogs.

“Ricardo,” Roy started, drawing the attention to himself. He had a bit of a goofy grin on his face and he was pressed against Jason again. “I was wondering… Do you have somewhere private we could go for a quick conversation?”

Ricardo’s eyebrow quirked and his lips smoothed into a smirk. “The prizes had that much of an effect?”

Roy gave a strange half shrug that was probably meant to be coy but came out as a bizarre body shake instead.

“Completely understandable. My office should give the time you need to… sort yourselves out.”

A guard stepped up beside them and wordlessly guided them to the office. He opened the door for them and closed it behind them once they’d entered. For the first time that day, they were left completely alone.

The moment the door closed, Roy ripped himself away from Jason and hunched over, head between his knees.

Jason’s hands were clenched into fists. “I hate you, Harper,” he spat.

“I didn’t bring those kids here!” Roy wheezed.

Jason kicked out at a chair, not caring as the furniture toppled over. He wanted to shatter it against Ricardo’s face. It would be delicious to shove all the bits of splintered wood through his muscles–see if he ever bought an expensive African wood chair ever again.

“Wait,” Roy started, lifting his head. The image of the archer bent over like an imitation of a human turtle did nothing to lift Jason’s spirits. “The office, right?”

“Yes,” Jason grit out, trying to figure out how much damage he could conceivably do to the room before the guard would be forced to figure out what was happening.

“Ricardo’s personal office?” Roy repeated in more detail.

“Yes, Roy, what is your fucking point?” Jason snapped, fully set on lighting the portrait of Ricardo and his brother on fire.

Roy finally stood, eyes wide. “Jay, the office!”

“Holy shit, say that one more time–”

“No, man! Listen to me.”

Jason paused, looking away from the oil painting over to Roy. They stared at each other for a full moment before it clicked.

In a second the two men launched around the desk and started to search. All of the drawers, but one, were unlocked and offered them tax information. The numbers didn’t mean much but a trained eye could go over them to find irregularities. Even if the police couldn’t touch Ricardo, the tax man certainly could and they tended to stop at nothing to get their government’s money back.

“Want to try the last drawer?” Roy asked, pointing.

Jason shook his head. “No. Don’t want to push our luck. It’s probably got an alarm.”

Roy shifted his point to the computer. He tilted his head towards it, eyebrows lifted significantly.

Now Jason nodded. He leaned over the keyboard, tapping a key to jolt the system into awareness. He glanced at the door then to Roy.

Roy lifted his hand into a two finger salute and went ramrod straight. “Got it, sir,” he said. “I’ll watch the door.”

Jason rolled his eyes, some of his anger leaving him now that he had a way to bust Ricardo’s system.

The monitor lit up before him. Of course it was password protected and of course it wasn’t as easy as entering in the man’s birthday or mother’s name. It was easy enough, however, to hook his phone up to the system and run his own algorithm. Working in tandem, he broke the lock and dove into the files.

Names, dates and huge strings of money unrolled before him. Some of it he recognized and wasn’t at all shocked by but then most of it was an utter blow. However deep they thought Los Diablo went wasn’t even scratching the surface. Entire government bodies and elite, ruling classes were tied to the man some how. Whether it was blackmail, partnerships or simple trades, Ricardo had nearly half of the Western world in his back pocket.

“Shit,” Roy breathed for the second time that day. He was staring over Jason’s shoulder at the lists.

Jason nodded, silently transferring as much as he could to his phone. He paused, brow furrowing as he realized Roy was practically draped over his back. He looked up from the computer and then to the man leaning on him.

Then the computer screeched at him.

Both men reeled back.

Jason quickly yanked his phone off the cord and set the computer back to the login screen but it was no use, the alarm was going off. It was a quiet insistent thing and fully determined to announce their activities.

On the other side of the door, the guard gave a shout and there was the sound of running.

Before Jason could think of a plan, Roy grabbed the front of his suit and threw him down on the desk.

Just as the door swung open, Roy crushed his mouth against Jason’s, totally trapping the man against the hard wood of the desk and the sharp points of the keyboard.

“What are you–” Ricardo started then broke off.

Roy pulled away from Jason, looking sheepish. “Ah, sorry,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Did we hit something?”

Ricardo’s eyes were narrowed as he stepped over to the desk.

They had certainly made a mess of it but Jason attempt to stand up could explain away most of it. He could tell that his face was red and he looked a little frazzled. Not that he could be blamed, it wasn’t every day one got thrown over a desk.

“We didn’t mean to be rude,” Roy continued. “Just, ah, I couldn’t help myself.”

Jason straightened himself, somehow having totally lost his ability to speak.

Ricardo glanced down at the crumpled papers then over to the computer. He tapped a key and it settled.

“I can understand,” he said, slowly, carefully as if he was weighing every word. “My wares can have that effect on people. But… Do get out of my office.”

Jason and Roy didn’t hesitate, they quickly moved away from the desk and to the door.

“I will meet you in the sunroom,” Ricardo told them, he waved at a guard to escort them back.

“Jay…” Roy whispered in warning as they walked.

Jason nodded. His thighs were already tensing for a run.

They hadn’t even made it halfway down the hall before the office behind them exploded in noise and chaos. Spanish curses littered with English orders echoed behind them. The guard walking with them, paused in confusion. He looked back to the office and by the time he looked back around, Jason and Roy were already tearing back up the hallway.

Servants dove out of the way as guards screamed at them, guns drawn but not ready to fire in the tight corridors.

The pair raced through the hallways to the sunroom that looked over a beautiful cliff and ocean. In a matter of seconds, the peaceful scene was going to be ruined by violence and yelling.

Roy’s chance to jump out of a window finally came.

Jason ripped his gun from the back of his slacks, shooting out the glass. He grabbed Roy by the waist and he leapt out of the shattered window.

It was a long drop to the bottom of the cliff but he was fully anticipating to not hit the ground.

“This is a terrible honeymoon,” Kori complained as she burst from the foliage and scooped them out of the air. She caught Jason around the waist and skillfully got a hold on Roy’s belt.

“We’ll plan a better one,” Jason reassured. “Just get us out of here so all three of us can make it.”

Kori twisted sharply, evading a shot. She expertly held her teammates as Jason rearranged himself to fire back over her shoulder.

“Dick was not happy to learn you weren’t actually married,” she continued, hefting Roy a little higher and against her hip.

“We’ll apologize later,” Roy yelped. “Get us back to the safehouse!”

When they had finally managed to reach the safe house, Ricardo had launched a manhunt but Jason had uploaded his files to Oracle and she was fully prepared to bring hellfire down on him. She had teased him mercilessly as she collected the information. In the end, no one their end was hurt and a monster was going to be taken out of the criminal underground within a matter of hours.

As far as marriages went, Jason was very sure that the one he had with Roy was certainly the most exciting and most productive, if not the shortest.


End file.
